


The Future

by Faline (rubberbisquit)



Series: The Best of Us [9]
Category: Jericho (US 2006)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 16:19:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19727269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubberbisquit/pseuds/Faline
Summary: There was so much blood.The finale of the series.





	The Future

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShirleyAnn66](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/gifts).



> Well, that only took three years to write. Follows directly after Two Bullets. Sans any additional canon information, we have no idea what happened to Beck and Heather after he's shot. This isn't the resolution I wanted, either.
> 
> Shout out to Shirley Ann for still being around. This is a gift, but it isn't your actual gift. That'll come soon. :)

_Then_

Reality was blurring. Heather knew it by the way her hands shook as she pressed down on the gaping wounds in Edward’s chest. Then her hands were empty, still covered in blood but she was on the floor and Edward was gone. An outline of blood on the floor, the red creeping all the way to her knees, her jeans uncomfortably sticky. And what a hell of a thing to think of. Her and her sticky jeans. She must look a mess-

_She was in what passed for an ambulance, holding on to Edward’s hand for dear life; his life. One of their paramedics tried to nudge her out of the way but she refused to let go. If she let go, she’d let go. The last word that had slipped out of his lips had been her name and Heather wanted to scream at the paramedic to work faster. Get his eyes open. Get him breathing again-_

Eric came to collect her, eventually. She screamed at him the first time he had tried to move her and then the shock had truly set in. He gathered her up and bustled her over to Emily’s. Her feet stumbled, the entire way. That tickly blood was down to her ankles, the fronts of her legs making her look impossibly wounded. The look on Emily’s face almost broke Heather’s heart. No one should look that upset, other than Heather of course.

_She was in the ambulance, holding on to his hand with all her might, and then Kenchy was turning her away from the operating room door. She opened her mouth to protest but the guiding hands of Darcy tugged her to an empty room. Sat her down and filled a bowl with water. Once her face was clean, Darcy left her with a change of clothes. Heather was sticky with blood, more than should be possible. She knew the human body contained on average 5 to 6 pints of blood. She could find a scale, see how much the clothes weighed with Edward’s actual life force blending with the fibers. She stared at the wall for what was actual hours-_

Emily guided her to the bathroom and helped her strip. Heather stood under the hot spray of the shower for what felt like hours, scrubbing her skin until it was pink. A soft robe waited for her when she finally killed the water; her blood stained clothes were nowhere to be seen. It was really for the best. Her hand froze as she reached for the doorknob. She’d missed a spot, under her left pointer finger. A tremor ran through her body.

_He looked dead, lying so still in post op that she held her breath at the door just to make sure his chest would rise. It was almost imperceptible but the steady beat of the monitor reassured her. Her hand fit firmly in Edward’s and his skin was clammy. Heather didn’t like the feeling any more than she liked the wounds he’d endured on her behalf. He was alive and that was enough; she didn’t have to face life without him. Not yet._

She couldn’t stop crying. First, on the bathroom floor as the adrenaline left her system. And then in the guest bed, Emily curled up around her back. Then alone. Then. Then just tears. Halfway through the night her hands splayed on her abdomen, remembering. Remembering that three heartbeats had just become two and she’d have to tell this child about their brave, handsome father. Who had given his life for Heather’s. She cried harder.

_Heather was napping on his chest when a change in the monitor’s beeping brought her instantly awake. Panic shot through her body, frozen and sore after her long vigil. It was his heartbeat. It had just spiked to 67 beats per minute after holding at a steady 52 for the last fourteen hours. She cupped his face, calling his name softly. She didn’t have to wait long before that beloved gaze found her own and Heather was crying. His name fell from her lips like a litany, relief flooding every part of her being. He’d come back to her. “I love you, Heather. I’ve always loved you.”_

They buried him two days later. Well. They laid his ashes to rest. She’d fought tooth and nail to have a proper burial, knowing his Catholic upbringing demanded it. Regulations being what they were in this terrible new world, cremations were the only available options any more. The group was full up on the dead; ashes to ashes, she was one of many paying their final respects at the mausoleum. Two days after the end of both Beck’s life and the evil reign of the ASA. The twenty-one gun salute made her jump out of her skin. The eulogies their friends gave made her cry. One hand stayed on her abdomen through it all and it didn’t long for a least a few people to figure out what was going on. She was surrounded and enveloped and hugged, soft words of comfort. Heather was all cried out.

_It had been almost a week since Edward had been shot. He’d regained much of his color and was comfortable enough to be propped up in bed for periods of time. She liked these moments, his eyes soft on their entwined hands. She hadn’t told him about the baby yet. That would come, when he was well enough to celebrate with her properly. For now, she was just glad that they could both exist in this space. Alive._

_“Heather?” Edward’s soft voice brought her attention back to his face. He was frowning at her. She shifted in the chair next to his hospital bed and leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “Heather? Where am I going?” She frowned; there was a faint panic in his voice and she just frowned. He wasn’t going anywhere and neither was she. Her fingers tightened around his. They were going to be together for a real long time. He searched her face. “A life without you wouldn’t be a life worth living. You know that, right?”_

_Heather had heard those words before, a lifetime before. Many sleepless nights ago; while he still slept in a drugged stupor. That moment right after impact. Two gaping chest wounds. She looked down, and cried out in dismay. His fingers were slipping from her grasp, her hands covered in blood again. She looked at his face one more, frantically. His eyes were closed, his skin pale. Much too pale._

_“Edward? Come back to me.” Heather leaned forward to shake him, both hands on his shoulders but also bloody. There was so much blood everywhere._

**Now**

“Heather! Let go; the medics need to get him to the Med Center.” Heather blinked her eyes hard, the vision of Edward on that hospital bed, dying again, blending with him at her feet, freshly shot. Eric’s hand on her shoulder jolted her back to reality. “Heather, lean back!”

A pair of soldiers nudged her aside and she let them. He’d died. She remembered the funeral but he’d lived too, his soft smile all for her. “Eric, what’s going on? Where are they taking him?” The youngest Green brother pulled her up and away from Edward and the mess. She struggled against his grasp, desperate to get her hands back on Edward, to reassure herself that he was still there with her.

“It’s okay, Heather. They’re stabilizing him for transport. We’ll follow the ambulance over and then I need to go to the Sherriff’s office. We obviously missed something with Palmer.”

The words soaked into her confused and battered mind. Palmer.

“Did you at least clip him? Eric, please tell me you can find him. He needs to pay. He needs to-“

“Easy, it’s okay. I think I got at least a shoulder. We’ll track him down.” Her sigh of relief was audible even as her heart clenched. The medics were getting ready to load Edward on to a gurney. They sounded rushed, but not worried. That was good, right? “He’s going to be okay, Heather. He’s going to be okay.”

She wanted to believe him. But she’d just seen two future lives flash in front of her eyes. The pain of losing him was overwhelming but the relief of his survival kept the panic at bay. A low moan slipped past Edward’s lips as they lifted him and his eyes fluttered. Heather was at his side in an instant, her hand finding his.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” She tried to keep her words steady and was rewarded by what would have been a smile if he hadn’t been in so much pain. “I love you, Edward Beck. I love you and you’re going to be okay.”

A weak squeeze was her response and he nodded. The blood loss was getting to him. He started to fade again. The lead medic raised his voice fractionally, that note of panic she had been expecting finally showing up. 

“We’ve got to move before we lose him. Come on.” The medic team pushed her out of the way unceremoniously, double timing for the front of her house and the waiting ambulance. Heather moved to follow; Eric held her back.

“Give them a few minutes to load him up, Heather, then we’ll follow. Do you want to change your clothes?” She looked down at herself. She was coated in Edward’s blood. Again. For the third time. 

“Heather?”

She blinked back the tears, memories warring for the forefront of her thoughts. Did she want to stay or go? A door slammed outside, the engine of the ambulance roaring to life. There was so much blood; she could feel it on her skin. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to go back, turn back the clock. There was no going back now, though. He’d be fine. They’d be fine.

She pressed a shaking hand to her abdomen and then started towards the front door. Towards Edward.


End file.
